


Testing Out a Rumor

by sanyumi



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, If You Know What I Mean..., Implications of sex but nothing graphic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Sexual Tension, and connor loves his men older and more experienced, except one anon on tumblr, heavy make out sesh, look at me getting carried away in a prompt again, not saying it explicitly but there is an age gap between these two, the teacher!au no one asked for, they literally can never keep their hands to themselves, work place gossip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanyumi/pseuds/sanyumi
Summary: Oliver stuck a hand out as the stranger did, shaking once and biting down the small thrill that traveled up his arm and down his spine at the simple greeting. “Oliver Hampton.”The man nodded once, disconnecting after a final squeeze that made Oliver gasp softly and overanalyze immediately.“Connor Walsh, AP English.” His lips parted and his tongue swiped the back of his teeth, like he was mulling something over.[Gossip starts around Mr. Walsh and Mr. Hampton, the newest teacher hired for 11th grade calculus. The students and staff wonder how long it'll be before the two jump each other. It's honestly a matter of time, really.]
Relationships: Oliver Hampton & Connor Walsh, Oliver Hampton/Connor Walsh
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize this from tumblr or The Collections please read again. I've edited and added a lot and changed the ending (cos I'm writing a part two ooh lala)
> 
> I'm writing this purely for self indulgent reasons but if you like it please leave a comment, it's been so long since i've written for my favorite boys that it would honestly make my day :)

Oliver started to notice it a couple months into his new teaching position, the gossiping.

It started with the students, obvious whispers in class he tended to ignore or loud, excited voices going silent in the halls as he turned a corner, raising an eyebrow behind his thick framed glasses. He’d hear a, “... Mr. Hampton…” or “... the new calc teacher…” 

He wasn’t sure what the gossiping was about at first, teenagers could be ruthless and dangerously imaginative when it came to the rumor mill, until the other teachers started getting whiff of it and talking up a storm themselves. Suddenly it wasn’t just his name he heard in hushed conversations, now it was “I saw Mr. Walsh and Mr. Hampton…” and “Mr. Walsh likes to visit Mr. Hampton during class time…” Oh dear.

Oliver couldn’t fathom what was so scandalous about having friendly conversation with your coworker. Though he could admit Mr. Walsh-- Connor-- and him met up a lot to talk. Mostly during recess or catching each other in the hall or in the teacher’s lounge. But Oliver had been here three months now and no one else seemed to take an interest in him like Connor did. They had hit it off right away, from Oliver’s first day, setting up his new classroom and taking it all in.

_Knock knock_

_“Hey.”_

_Oliver looked up, finding a young man in the doorway to his classroom, a slow smile blooming on his face._

_“Hi.” Oliver straightened up. He was behind his desk, organizing the drawers and his collection of writing utensils for the hundredth time._

_The man came in, his long legs clad in navy blue slacks carrying him to the edge of the desk in three easy strides._

_“Are you the new calculus teacher?” His voice was warm, intrigued, eyes fixed on Oliver._

_“Oh, yes.” Oliver stuck a hand out as the stranger did, shaking once and biting down the small thrill that traveled up his arm and down his spine at the simple greeting. “Oliver Hampton.”_

_The man nodded once, disconnecting after a final squeeze that made Oliver gasp softly and overanalyze immediately._

_“Connor Walsh, AP English.” His lips parted and his tongue swiped the back of his teeth, like he was mulling something over. “But you can call me Connor. The staff are all pretty informal here,” he seemed to add on as an afterthought._

_Oliver nodded, wondering why he felt so flushed all the sudden. “Nice to meet you.”_

_“Pleasure’s mine.” Connor’s eyes squinted just enough for Oliver to notice, considering something, before turning and leaving the way he came, waving a hand._

_“See you around, Oliver.”_

Oliver made his way to the teacher’s lounge, yawning and holding an empty thermos. Rounding the corner, he noticed two women seated at the table, chatting, both warming their hands with their steaming mugs of coffee.

They both looked up as he entered, conspicuously falling silent when Oliver was sure he’d heard them chattering in the hallway. He rolled his eyes, making his way to the coffee pot and pouring himself a generous amount into his thermos.

As he reached for the sugar, his ears prickled as one of them began whispering.

_“... Connor arrive yet?”_

Oliver heard a negative hum. _“Maybe they carpooled.”_ Both dissolved into quiet snickers at that. Oliver sighed loudly, turning around.

“Hey.” Both women turned their heads immediately. “I can hear you.”

One of them, Ms. Pratt, the 8th grade history teacher, rolled her eyes. “Well, you and Connor aren’t exactly discreet either.”

Oliver blinked. “What do you mean? We aren’t… anything.”

And it was true. Sure the young teacher and him got along, but Connor got along with everyone. He was charismatic, funny, good with rule breaking teenagers, and aggressively attractive. He hardly said “hi” or “good morning” to everyone, but certainly everyone greeted Connor when he came into work. Of course the staff and students got along with him, everyone _wanted_ Connor to like them. Oliver could admit he had a tiny (huge, gigantic, embarrassing) crush on the AP English teacher but out of professionalism and respect never acted on it… had he?

_Oliver waited outside the door to Connor’s room. He had a class right now, but Oliver knew he’d need these papers for his lesson, it was just common courtesy to deliver the_ _m… he wasn’t using it as an excuse to see the man, to talk to him, to see him smile. Of course not._

_Nodding once, Oliver knocked on the door, hearing Connor go silent as he had been in the middle of lecturing. Oliver winced, maybe he should have waited for a pause. God this was so rude, interrupting class time--_

_The door opened and Connor’s face went from confused to-- dare Oliver say-- elated, a wide smile stretching up and nearly touching his eyes._

_“Mr. Hampton,” he ducked his head and when he stepped back, meeting his eyes again, the smile was more controlled, casual. “Can I help you?”_

_Oliver’s eyes flicked into the full class, half of the teenagers zeroed in on him and the other half using the disruption to pass notes or bring out their phone and text. He looked back to Connor, who waited patiently._

_“Uh, just thought I’d deliver these,” he handed the fat manila folder over, full of Connor’s lesson plans for the week. Connor took them with a relieved expression._

_“Shit,” he said quietly, just between them. “I knew they weren’t in my desk.”_

_“Found them in the teacher’s lounge.”_

_“Thank you,” Connor said, his eyes doing that intense thing again, making Oliver’s blood race._

_“No problem…” Oliver looked at the students again and saw them getting restless, some leaning over and whispering to each other. He took a step back into the hallway._

_“Uh, I’ll see you around.”_

_Connor smiled again, a hand casually holding onto the door._

_“Of course.”_

The other woman, Ms. Castillo, chimed in helpfully, “Please. I can see the eyes you make at each other. It’s downright distracting. Just fuck already and get it out of your systems.”

Oliver blanched, mouth working uselessly as he tried to think of a come back. Finding himself struck silent and irritated at the knowing smiles from the two women. Oliver turned and left, shaking his head and persistently squashing down the images that flared up of indeed getting Connor out of his system, pushing him against the wall, his desk, his bed. Pinning the young man down with his body, feeling Connor’s back arch to press up against him, grabbing his thigh and hoisting it up and over his hips to _thrust_ down and listen to Connor cry out. 

Oliver tugged on the collar of his button down, squeezing his eyes shut. It was a stupid crush, yes, but Oliver never thought he was being obvious. But now that the seed had been planted, Oliver realized that Connor always reciprocated his advances… if you could call them that. Connor would pop in between classes just to say hi, a hand behind his neck or offering Oliver his dessert from lunch. How he always found time to listen to Oliver, to have even a quick conversation in the halls, if Oliver stopped him. How he always seemed to give Oliver his full attention, even in shared discussions with fellow teachers, or in meetings. Connor would turn to him and make faces, like they were kids bored during lecture.

Or now, on the playground during lunch time. Oliver was taking a lap around the field, stretching his legs as he often did after sitting or standing in one spot in front of the white board for five hours, when he heard a familiar voice calling from behind.

Oliver turned, watching Connor come jogging up to him, falling in step beside him. He bit down the automatic urge to smile.

“Hey,” Connor greeted, his gelled hair flopping in his face and causing him to push it back, fixing Oliver with a brilliant smile that nearly made the older man trip.

Oliver swallowed, forcing his gaze forward again when he realized he’d been staring too long into Connor’s annoyingly gorgeous brown eyes.

“Mr. Walsh…” Oliver started, ignoring the strange look Connor fixed him with. He’d never called Connor by his last name, not to his face. But right now, Oliver figured it was time to be a little formal, professional. Staff or students were probably looking at them right now, interpreting two teachers walking side-by-side as something nefarious, when it was nothing more than two friends enjoying each other’s company.

… Were Connor and him friends?

“Are you aware of people… talking about us?” Oliver bit his lip, not looking at Connor.

“Uh…” Connor chuckled nervously. “No? What are they saying?”

Oliver wondered if Connor was lying. The gossip was so obvious, so loud… maybe Connor was dense but Oliver doubted that.

“N-nothing much,” Oliver tugged at his watch, pretending to check the time. “Nevermind.” 

“Ollie, what's going on?” Connor put a hand on Oliver’s arm, bringing their walk to a halt. 

Oliver’s heart flipped over. Connor hardly used that nickname on him, it was too informal, too friendly. It made Oliver’s chest tighten and wiped his brain clean of logical thought.

Maybe Connor really didn’t know what was going on. Maybe he didn’t hear the rumors cos… he wasn’t interested in Oliver that way. He probably didn’t give the gossip train a second thought, easily blocked out because it wasn’t something he was personally interested in, or knew it was something that would never happen.

Oliver was getting too old for this, too old to hope and get crushes, especially on hot, young AP English teachers who didn’t have a single grey hair while Oliver had given up coloring his hair years ago and just letting the silver strands stand out amongst the black. Hell, he and Connor didn’t even talk or hangout outside of work, they’d never made plans, for all Oliver knew Connor would have a boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever, and was just naturally very charming.

Not to mention, giving into this fantasy would be totally inappropriate and, while not against any rules, they'd have to bring it up to the principle. They'd have to go public with it. In any case, teachers didn’t date teachers, especially while Oliver was still brand new and barely had time to make a name for himself here. He liked this school and he loved teaching, he couldn’t let Connor Walsh be a distraction.

Oliver opened his mouth to insist, again, that it was nothing, when the first bell rang and the students started clearing the field. His mouth snapped shut, looking once more to Connor, letting it linger, and nodding once. As he turned to walk back inside, he heard Connor inhale, like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He didn’t look back and didn’t feel Connor follow behind.

A couple weeks passed, and Connor stopped talking to him nearly altogether. His greetings in the hall or in the teacher’s lounge were just a quiet “Hey,” or a head nod, something passing cordial, before he turned tail and left. He always left now, like he didn’t even want to be in the same room with Oliver anymore, especially if someone else was there.

Oliver tried not to let this sudden rejection affect him or his teaching, trying to find the positive in Connor’s decision. The rumors died down, he was able to focus during class time now, and not being stared at by his fellow staff was certainly a plus. But it didn’t make Connor disappear from his thoughts, his mind unable to completely let go of his infatuation with the other teacher. And unfortunately now, the students had noticed something was off with him. Oliver’s students looked at him with concern, and a few even outright asked if he was alright after class.

“Don’t worry about me,” Oliver had insisted, mortified that his students had begun to notice his mopey attitude.

“You know,” the student this time around was Jeremy, one of the best in his grade who currently took AP English with the senior class. “Mr. Walsh is taking it hard, too.”

Oliver gave his full attention to Jeremy, surprise clear on his face.

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s gotten real soft. Doesn’t yell at the class anymore, keeps getting distracted during lectures, and his grading sucks. Like, he’s giving out As to everyone and it’s so unfair!”

Oliver managed to crack a smile while his brain buzzed a mile a minute. Connor was acting weird? But he was the one who stopped talking to Oliver! Wasn’t that what he wanted though? To stop the rumors and focus on work?

No. He didn’t want this, whatever Connor was initiating. This… ignoring, silence, staring.

Yes, there had been staring, now that Oliver thought about it. Connor stared at him a lot, always looking away when Oliver could sense it, could feel Connor’s eyes on him across the room, across the hall, in the gymnasium during pep rallies and school games. It happened with more and more frequency the longer this went on. It was almost infuriating. If Connor wanted to talk to him so bad, maybe he should lift this weird ban he’s put on himself and, consequently, Oliver too.

A month passed like this and finally Oliver broke down. Connor was all but ignoring him, yes, but that didn’t mean Oliver was helping the situation by playing along. He knocked on Mr. Walsh’s classroom door during lunch. The halls were devoid of students and teachers alike, who were out watching over recess or enjoying their lunch break outside the school walls. And Oliver had noticed, as time went on, that Connor had taken to eating lunch alone in his classroom instead of the cafeteria.

After a muffled, “Come in,” Oliver turned the knob and pushed the door open, meeting Connor’s eyes immediately. He sat at his desk, holding a sandwich he’d obviously packed from home.

Oliver held up his own lunch in greeting, swallowing his nerves.

“May I join you?”

Connor tapped a finger on his desk, bringing his lips in to form a line.

“I don’t know. Is it unprofessional to have lunch with your coworkers?”

Oliver sighed, casting his eyes to the floor, nodding to himself and shutting the door behind him as he entered the room.

Connor said nothing as Oliver sat at a student’s desk in front of Connor, opening his lunch bag and taking out a salad and leftover lasagna he’d already heated up in the staff microwave.

“What do you want, Mr. Hampton?” Connor took a bite of his sandwich, looking back to the papers out in front of him. Grading while he was eating. That was… odd. Was he not getting enough time at home to grad papers?

“Do you want some help grading?”

“No.” Connor said quickly, taking another bite and scribbling something in red ink.

Oliver huffed, unsure where to go from here.

“I’m sorry if I… said something or offended you in some way.” He tapped his fork against his food, his stomach was in knots. “I’m still very new here and I’m not good at talking to people.”

Connor sighed, dropping the pen and his sandwich, looking over at Oliver.

“No, I’m sorry,” he started, pulling a hand through his hair. “Teachers here… like to talk.”

He shook his head, staring at the papers in front of him. “I knew. Of course I knew people were gossiping about us. After working here for so many years of course I’m used to being talked about. I’m sure you’ve heard your fair share of dirty laundry about me.”

Oliver sighed. It was true. Teachers, adopting bad habits of the student’s they taught, informed Oliver of Connor’s flirtatious ways and promiscuous dating style outside of school during his first week. It was a shock, to put it lightly, to hear his coworkers so willingly and eagerly blab about one of their own to a complete stranger, let alone someone fresh into their school. Oliver had ignored it all, refusing to fuel the fire and usually just walking out of those conversations. He hadn’t known Connor well enough to defend or slander him, but regardless he wasn’t the type to gossip and found the whole ordeal very unprofessional and rude.

Especially once he actually started talking to Connor himself, getting to know him and unfortunately falling for his charms. There was a fear, a nagging voice in the back of his head, that reminded him of what the other faculty members had told him. That Connor didn’t date, he fucked around and didn’t stay the night. He’d allegedly slept with several substitute teachers or college TAs that never stuck around long, but never anyone who actively worked for the school.

But there was nothing concrete against him, against Connor. He was an exceptional teacher who was good at his job and loved it. Oliver didn’t think anything of the attention the younger man was giving him, didn’t think it could mean anything special… especially if the rumors surrounding the promiscuous educator were true. That meant he’d never go for Oliver because one: they worked together and two: Oliver knew he wasn’t the type that people like Connor went for. At least, in retrospect, Oliver could only assume.

Oliver was at least 10 years older than Connor. He was set in his ways. He owned a house and dated to find a meaningful, long term relationship. He stopped sleeping with strangers in his 20s (not that he ever had much game to begin with) and so could admit the attention from Connor was very flattering… but figured it wouldn’t go anywhere. Figured it was nice to just see a friendly face every day, someone to talk to who appreciated his company. Oliver missed that, missed Connor.

“I don’t care about that though…” Oliver admitted softly. “You were one of the few teachers who actually wanted a real conversation with me.”

Connor scoffed lightly, sighing afterward and fixing his eyes to Oliver’s. 

“It’s true though, what everyone says about me.” He leaned his chin down on a hand, supported by his elbow on the desk. “Granted, I haven’t done that in years, since the school board found out and threatened to fire me. But even with the strike on my head, everyone is still convinced I fool around. There’s nothing I can say or do to convince them otherwise.” Connor shrugged, his eyes glazing over, annoyance coming through. “They’ll get bored eventually and find something new to talk about.

“But then you came and…” Connor gestured toward Oliver, who sat staring, intrigued. “... and messed it all up.”

Oliver managed to look affronted. “How did I mess anything up?”

“Because you’re so…” Connor groaned, ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck. “Fuck. You’re so _you_ , Oliver.” He looked back up, his eyes wide and honest. 

A tense silence stretched between them. Oliver’s pulse was thruming under his skin, making his chest hurt with how hard his heart was pumping.

Oliver licked his lips, his voice quiet as he spoke. “What does that mean?”

Connor groaned again, pushing his food and papers away so he could set both elbows on his desk, tying his fingers together.

“Apparently, everyone had a bet going on that we’d get together.” Oliver didn’t miss how Connor didn’t answer his question.

Oliver swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“And you were… what, entertaining them?”

“No. No! God Oliver, listen,” Connor pulled both hands through his hair.

“I didn’t care what they thought. I never have. But when you spoke to me on the field last month… you seemed nervous. And I don’t know, it kind of hit me how I don’t want you getting wrapped up in my drama. You’re still new; even if we were just-- hanging out, chatting by the fucking water cooler, I didn’t want our starved-for-a-story fellow faculty to associate you with me. Trust me, I’ve had a really hard time proving myself worthy to be here, keeping my record squeaky clean.” Connor exhaled loudly, picking the red pen back up, tapping it viciously to his desk. “And I didn’t want anyone side-eyeing you or questioning your abilities or authority--”

“Connor, stop.” 

Connor’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Oliver stood, getting around the little desk he was seated at and standing in front of Connor’s much larger desk, resting his hands on it.

“I’ve been teaching for over 20 years, in 3 different schools. I know how the game works, I know when not to get involved. I can take care of my own reputation.” He smiled, biting his lower lip. “But it’s nice to hear you were worried about me. Thank you.”

Connor nodded. “Good.” He looked down at his desk again, fiddling with his fingers. “Good.”

Oliver straightened up, suddenly nervous again. He replayed what Connor said over and over in his mind, trying to figure out if this meant his feelings were reciprocated or…

“So, want to start over?” Connor asked quietly, looking up at Oliver.

 _Start over…_ Oliver mused, watching Connor’s eyes, so wide and honest, almost pleading.

“Like, before? As… friends?” Oliver held his breath. It felt weird to put a label on their relationship, even something as innocent as friendship. But Oliver needed it, needed the confirmation, validation that they were _something_.

“Uh…” Connor scoffed lightly, looking down and fiddling with his pen. “Yeah. Sure.” He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. “Friends.”

Oliver held a hand out and Connor finally laughed.

“Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not,” Oliver insisted, a grin breaking free. He wiggled his fingers and delighted in the exaggerated eye roll Connor performed before taking his hand, squeezing and shaking it playfully.

Oliver’s smile began to fall, matching Connor’s thoughtful grin as the handshake slowed, lingering. A pleasant bolt of electricity zipped through Oliver’s veins, much like the first time they shook hands. Oliver watched Connor’s eyes fall, studying their clasped hands and audibly gasped as Connor’s thumb began to softly stroke Oliver’s skin.

Connor tugged lightly, causing Oliver to lean with it, his lips parting, unable to look away as Connor brought his other hand up, tracing the veins under Oliver’s wrist and up his forearm, pushing the fabric of his sleeve up. Oliver felt every hair on his body stand as Connor’s fingers, light as a feather, caressed his skin.

Turning Oliver’s hand palm up, Connor slowly lifted it to his lips, meeting Oliver’s eyes as he gently pressed his lips to the pulse point on Oliver’s wrist. Oliver let out a soft breath that could have been a moan, his skin thrumming.

The silence between them was thick. Oliver watched intently, unable to look away from Connor’s intense gaze, dark and hungry. He dipped his head and nudged along Oliver’s skin with his nose, mouth open and dragging his teeth along sensitive skin.

“ _Ah…_ ” Oliver breathed again, his voice was gone, he couldn’t speak if he wanted to. Connor was pulling his hand down as his mouth moved up, his breath warm and brushing his lips along his skin, not quite leaving kisses as he pulled Oliver closer, wrapping a hand around his elbow and finally looking up, treating Oliver to his hooded eyes once more.

“ _Connor…_ ” Oliver moaned, his voice barely audible. This was so quiet, so soft and slow, Oliver was terrified of breaking the spell, the moment that was happening between them. The air seemed to quiver around them, wary of interrupting, of pushing things too far.

But Connor’s lips looked so inviting, Oliver could feel them on his skin, how smooth and warm they felt. They shined as Connor licked his lips, tongue coming dangerously close to his skin, Oliver watched his tongue slip out and felt arousal coil tightly in his stomach.

Just as Oliver made up his mind, telling himself fuck the rules and drag Connor in by his neck to feel those lips against his own, the bell rang.

The trance was broken like a bomb had gone off. Connor released Oliver so suddenly he nearly fell back into his chair. Oliver stumbled back and turned around, feeling heat engulf his entire face and squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on controlling his suddenly erratic breathing, his feet on the floor, his nails aggressively scratching his scalp, _anything_ to bring him back to earth.

“Fuck,” he swore, looking down and noticing his untouched lunch. He awkwardly got to packing it back up. His hands were shaking.

He turned and found Connor watching him, his expression strained, frustrated. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

Oliver heard voices and footsteps echo in the hall. Students were returning and preparing for class. 

“I’ll see you later.” Oliver managed, his voice sounded off.

Connor nodded, swaying on the spot. He swallowed before answering. “Yeah, later.”

Oliver nodded too, finally turning and leaving the room as casually as possible, shutting the door behind him and hoping his face gave nothing away. His shirt sleeve was still pushed up and his skin tingled relentlessly the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is a lot. sorry it took me so long to update this, i had a lot of ideas about where to take this and they were all GREAT okay? im obsessed with teacher AUs and i wanted to write them making out in a classroom so bad, but it didn't feel realistic to me, given this particular AU, to rush into that... yet.
> 
> so this chapter is just them getting to know each other and fucking, obviously.
> 
> yes, i said "this chapter." i think i might spit another one out just to fulfill my need for classroom shenanigans. no promises. just keep your eyes peeled!

Looking at Oliver was suddenly a lot harder, after Connor’s little stunt.

A few quiet days had passed, both men finding excuses to not run into each other. Connor understood, of course. He wasn’t sure what he’d even say to Oliver if they talked… or if they would. If they weren’t going to talk it out, Connor felt he might jump the older man, one or the other.

Seeing him in the hallway dressed in the same slacks, jacket, button down, a little ill-fitted but always with a pop of personality in his wacky ties, shouldn’t cause Connor’s blood to race. Oliver meeting his eyes across the room shouldn’t make his breath catch. Finding Oliver out on the field at lunch, with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, had never excited Connor, never explicitly felt arousal shooting through his body, down his spine to the tips of his fingers.

Oliver had always been easy on the eyes, cute, nerdy, a catchy smile. Connor was well aware of his attraction to Oliver… he’d never been into older guys, always preferring men his own age or a little younger, men who still had youthful energy and libido. But after the past few years of fooling around, business as usual, Connor found himself getting… bored.

He didn’t need the school board to reprimand him for sleeping around, he was on his way to a break anyway. Maybe he was getting old, Connor had thought. At 30 years old his sexual appetite hadn’t necessarily waned, but his tastes were changing, and it was hard to accept. Young men he met in bars were starting to annoy him. The TAs that came in (whom he  _ really  _ shouldn’t have slept with, he’d learned his lesson there) were fun and easy, but were too flippant and rude. It’s funny, thinking about it now; they had reminded Connor how he was in undergrad.

Now… it was complicated. A loneliness had settled deep in Connor’s core, one that meaningless sex couldn’t fill anymore. He’d taken a break, hadn’t slept with anyone in nearly 6 months (a staggeringly long time for him, Connor felt himself going crazy).

But now, holy shit.

Connor couldn’t explain what came over him the other day, with Oliver in his classroom. He wasn’t prepared for Oliver to come in and apologize, catching him off guard, making him unable to control the words that came from his mouth. He wasn’t sure how he felt toward Oliver, just that he had a soft spot for him. Connor also liked the lines around Oliver’s eyes, showing how he squinted when he smiled. He liked the dash of silver sprinkled along Oliver’s jet black hair, his broad shoulders, his kind eyes, his patience… it was strikingly different attributes than what Connor normally found attractive in another male. His definition of sexy really was changing and Connor wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Or maybe it was just Oliver.

And Connor really didn’t enjoy his fellow staff gossiping about him. Hell, his boss could have hired anyone new, even a woman, and the teachers would make up a story to keep themselves entertained. He was starting to get sick of it, maybe he should change schools. Connor has been here for a while now, maybe it was time to broaden his horizons, so to speak. Maybe teach younger kids, one’s who’d actually pay attention to him in class…

“Hey, Connor.”

Connor turned his head, finding Oliver walking up to him just outside the front entrance to the school building. His smile was guarded, shy. He bit his bottom lip and Connor felt his own lips tingle as they parted unwillingly.

“Hi.”

Oliver ducked his head, making the few extra steps needed to meet Connor, looking up to find his eyes.

“Can we, uh, talk?” Oliver nudged his head, indicating to a corner of the building. They were both early, of course. It was nearly 6am, half of the staff had already arrived and the rest would be trickling in soon, but right now it was quiet, the sky a dark blue and the smell of dew hung in the air.

Connor nodded, leading the way around the building to a semi secluded area not far from the parking lot. He turned when he felt they were safe, leaning his shoulder against the brick wall as Oliver did.

Connor knew what he wanted to say, but Oliver had taken the initiative, he waited for him to speak. Oliver sighed, shifting the strap of his heavy messenger bag higher on his shoulder before stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, ready to speak before hesitating, restarting, chuckling nervously to himself.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he finally said, fixing Connor’s gaze with tired, helpless eyes. “About what we almost did, in your classroom.”

“Me neither,” Connor breathed out like a sigh of relief. Oliver sighed too, the tension melting between them.

“I… I was going to kiss you.” Oliver admitted quietly, his neck turning a pretty shade of pink, his eyes falling on Connor’s lips.

Connor’s heart did a somersault, banging hard in his ribcage. Funny, he had planned something similar… but...

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he heard himself whisper, instantly regretting the words as Oliver’s face fell.

“Why? You started it.”

“I--” Connor scrambled for words to explain, his hands gesticulating aimlessly. “I don’t want to feed the rumor mill.”

Oliver exhaled sharply through his nose, studying Connor behind his thick-framed glasses. His demeanor shifted, relaxing.

“You know-- and this is just a suggestion,” Oliver’s expression had a hint of playfulness. “but I think if we really started dating, openly, our fellow teachers would stop talking about you.”

“‘Dating’?” Connor cocked an eyebrow. 

Oliver looked to the ground again, his composure slipping.

“Well, I mean… I know it’s strange, two teachers dating, but technically we could. I mean, I could... “ Oliver took a deep breath, pulling his eyes back up to meet Connor’s. “I could ask you out for dinner, right?”

Connor blinked. An old, knee-jerk reaction to decline the invitation arose, threatening to break free. Connor swallowed. He had tried dating when he was younger, of course, but found it boring, tedious, especially when all he had wanted was the physical pleasures of another person, nothing else. He didn’t like talking about himself, he didn’t like opening up, and he especially didn’t care to hear whatever life story of whoever he brought home with him.

But that was before, and the thought of continuing down that path, for the rest of his life, made Connor uneasy. His sister had been right, all those years ago. He was lonely, had been lonely, and scared. So scared of being himself, letting the baggage out, letting himself trust another person… again.

“Dinner?” Connor finally squeaked out, realizing he had left Oliver hanging. “Sounds painless. Sure.”

“Sure?” A small smile cracked through Oliver’s composed face, still a little skeptical.

Connor nodded, taking a step to be that much closer to Oliver. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Oliver smiled, letting it take over his whole face. Connor felt momentarily paralyzed by the sight.

Connor felt himself drawn to Oliver’s eyes, his mouth... his hands itched to reach out and touch… but he forced his gaze down, using his hands to tug his phone from his pocket instead, unlocking it and offering it to Oliver.

“Can I have your number?”

That shy look was back and it made Connor grin, purposefully dragging his fingers along Oliver’s as the older man took his phone.

“How’s tonight sound?” Oliver asked while typing his information into Connor’s phone.

Connor focused on the hopeful look Oliver turned on him, instead of the his stupid brain shutting down at the idea of a date a date  _ a fucking dinner date _ .

“Yeah. Yeah sounds great. Friday night, don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow morning, eh?”

Oliver’s eyes flicked up under his lashes, holding Connor’s attention as his words came back to him.

_ Shit, you fucking stupid flirt. Why would you insinuate-- _

Oliver hummed, nodding thoughtfully as he handed the phone back, his face blank. 

“Yeah, got nowhere to be tomorrow morning, or all day. Could stay in bed.”

A surge of fiery hope flared up in Connor, causing a smirk to split across his face. Oliver took a step towards him, nearly closing the space between them.

“You’d go straight home after dinner…?” He trailed off suggestively. He wanted to hear it, he wanted Oliver to catch his drift, he needed him to say--

“Who says our date has to end after dinner?”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Connor swore softly, his blood racing. 

Oliver laughed gently, breaking eye contact. That shy man was back and he was blushing again, surprised at himself.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Oliver spoke, stepping back, settling a new kind of tension between them, tampering it down. “Text me, I’ll meet you whenever.”

Connor followed after him, dragging his fingers along the rough brick and trying not to stare at Oliver’s ass. “Got a place in mind?"

“Mm…” Oliver turned, Connor followed him around the corner. There were more cars in the parking lot now, soon the school busses would be arriving.

“I’m not too picky.”

* * *

Connor realized too late that, although Oliver had technically asked him out, he was leaving the actual dinner location up to Connor. He panicked and picked his favorite burger joint. When he texted Oliver the restaurant he couldn’t figure out if the responding, “ _ haha, alright _ ” was a good thing or not. Did Oliver want something more upscale? Some place that required a reservation? Connor had never done this before, taking someone he  _ liked  _ out on a date… not in a long time anyway, he was seriously out of practice. But he liked this burger place, it was casual, friendly… but as Connor sat at his table, sipping water and scanning the menu for the thousandth time, he was starting to regret his decision.

Until he saw Oliver walk in, talking to the host and meeting his eyes across the room. Connor felt his breath catch in his throat at the simple knit sweater and blue jeans Oliver wore. He’d seen Oliver in cardigans at work, but for the most part he always dressed up, never casual, even on Fridays. Or maybe it was just seeing Oliver outside of work that was causing Connor’s head to spin, as he approached the table and sat across from Connor.

“You know,” Oliver started, picking up the menu and smiling as the server filled his glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to try this place.”

“Really?” 

They both declined drinks and the server left.

Oliver nodded. “I’m not really into meat. I mean, I’m not a vegetarian, but I’ve tried to not deliberately eat meat in about 10 years. But sometimes I get a craving, you know?”

“Oh,” Connor licked his lips. “For moral or health reasons?”

Oliver shrugged. “Health, mostly. But I’ve heard great things about this place, and I was just waiting for the right moment to try it out. It’s like you read my mind.”

Oliver grinned and so did Connor. It was contagious, Oliver’s smile. 

As the small talk continued and their food arrived, Connor felt himself relaxing. They moved on to work talk, but exchanged stories about their students, who was the smartest kid they taught, who was the rowdiest. And that led to where they graduated college. Connor stayed here, in the city he went to college in, but it’s not where he was raised.

“I was born in Chicago, but moved to live with my mom in Napa Valley when I was like, 7, 8 years old.” Connor propped his elbows on the table. Their burgers were long finished and now they were slowly picking at their fries. “I haven’t seen my dad since.”

“You do not look like a Cali boy.” Oliver smiled, popping a fry into his mouth. “When did you leave Napa? I lived there for a couple years.”

Connor blinked. “Seriously? I left to go to college here in 2010.”

Oliver sat back, eyes twinkling behind his large glasses.

“No way. That’s when I moved to Napa.”

“Weird… we just missed each other,” Connor took a sip of water. “Where did you move from?”

Oliver snicked, leaning forward again, propping his chin on his hand.

“Portland. Born and raised. Came up here a couple years ago to substitute in a town over before finding this job."

Connor scoffed, shaking his head in humor. They were currently in Seattle. 

“We were so close to each other for a while, there.”

“And now we’re both here.”

Connor hummed, nodding. They were close now, leaning over the table.

“I’m glad I met you now… I was such a brat in my early 20s.”

“You’re still a brat.” Oliver giggled as Connor swatted his arm.

A comfortable silence fell between them. Oliver’s eyes wandered, studying Connor’s face, down his neck, chest, and to his hands, resting on the table, inches away from Oliver’s. Connor watched what Oliver would do. His heart stuttered in his rib cage when he realized how close their hands were. All he had to do was extend a finger and he could poke Oliver’s hand.

Having a crush was so weird.

“You said you started school in 2010. That makes you… 32?”

Connor smirked, ducking his head before pulling it back up with a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“30. I took two years working nonsense jobs before I started undergrad.”

“Wow… sorry, I know you must get this a lot, but you’re so young. How long have you been teaching?”

Connor shrugged like it was no big deal. “Four years. It’s cool, being young helps me connect better with my students, I’ve realized.”

Oliver hummed. Connor’s beating heart short circuited as Oliver’s finger reached out and touched Connor’s wrist. It felt like being zapped. He didn’t move his hand though, Connor wasn’t sure what to do. Flirting and lusting after Oliver was one thing, but having feelings for him was something almost foreign to Connor. He didn’t like the way his erratic heart beat muddled his brain and rendered him unable to speak.

“I’m usually not attracted to younger men.” Oliver admitted, meeting Connor’s eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Connor heard himself falling back on familiar territory, his brows narrowing suggestively. “I’ve got lots of experience.”

“Wow,” Oliver laughed, turning his pokes into a caress down Connor’s hand, encouraging him to uncurl his fist and lock their fingers.

“You are a brat.”

Connor grinned something mischievous.

“Want to get out of here? I know a good bar close by…”

The sky was turning dark around them. They’d hogged their table for hours, getting lost in conversation, and now Connor wanted a drink. He wanted Oliver to have a drink. 

“Actually…” Oliver’s thumb gently rubbed the top of Connor’s hand, and he loved it.

“We could head back to my place. I have wine, and probably some whiskey… not sure if I have anything to go with it though…” He rambled on, a cute pink creeping up his neck.

Connor swallowed a few times to make sure he didn’t sound too excited.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

* * *

Connor sipped on his whiskey and coke, listening to Oliver talk animatedly about the different types of red wines and their vintage. He had moved to Napa Valley purely for its roots in wine. He taught night classes in a community college while taking wine classes in the day to become a sommelier. Connor had to admit, most of it was going over his head, but watching Oliver geek out about something he was educated about, passionate about, made something warm and dangerously fond bloom in his chest.

"So what you're saying is," Connor spoke after Oliver finally finished with his spiel, taking a long sip of his pinot noir. "You're a snob."

"Yes." Oliver laughed. "I suppose I am. I try not to be annoying about it though. Am I boring you?"

"Not at all." Connor grinned, bringing his drink up. 

They were at an island in the middle of Oliver’s kitchen, Connor sat on one of the stools and Oliver was standing opposite him, leaning over the edge, propped up by his elbows. A comfortable silence fell between them, Oliver enjoying his second glass of wine and Connor still nursing his drink, which was more whiskey than coke.

Connor couldn’t take his eyes away from Oliver’s face, the way his eyes drifted around when he took sips, how his cheeks were starting to turn a light shade of pink, or how the lines around his eyes deepened when he smiled, catching Connor looking at him.

“What?” Oliver said through the smile, hiding it behind his wine glass, the dark red nearly finished.

Connor set his glass down, slowly spinning it around and around distractedly.

“You look like a relationship kind of guy.”

Oliver hummed, his gaze lifting up, sitting on the statement. He pulled the last of his wine and set the glass down with a delicate  _ tink _ .

“So what if I am?”

Connor licked his lips, a tipsy smirk breaking through as he caught Oliver’s gaze flicking down to his mouth.

“I’m not… usually.” Connor looked down at the granite top, noticing the antsy way he handled the glass and pushed it aside. “I’m not really sure what I want.”

Oliver shrugged. “That’s okay. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“About what?”

“You know…” Oliver brought himself in minutely, Connor barely noticed it. “About… us. We can take it slow.”

“Is that why you invited me back to your place?” Connor felt himself smirking again. “To take it slow?”

Oliver laughed softly, not meeting Connor’s eyes. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

“That’s fine.”

“No, I mean… a  _ really  _ long time.” Oliver pulled a hand through his hair. Connor noticed some strands of silver shine against the overhead light with the movement.

Connor stood, letting his hand trail over the island’s countertop as he walked to Oliver, pulling his gaze and posture up, giving Connor his full attention.

Connor lifted his eyes up to meet Oliver’s, who stood a few inches over him. It’s something Connor was dimly aware of, but not conscious of, their height difference. But now, standing barefoot in Oliver’s kitchen, alcohol thrumming through his body, inhibitions low, Connor was having very specific ideas of what those couple extra inches could do for him.

Not to mention how obviously more fit Oliver was than him. He still wore the sweater from dinner but the sleeves were pushed up, revealing thick forearms and golden skin. Connor looked down to Oliver’s arms now, remembering how they transfixed him before, in his own classroom. He took one of Oliver’s hands and rubbed his thumb over the top of his hand.

“Want me to refresh your memory?”

Oliver smiled. It wasn’t dirty, or shy, or playful. He just… smiled. And Connor felt his heart stop for a moment there.

But then something sparkled in Oliver’s eyes. He took a step closer to Connor, gently resting a hand over his hip.

“I still know a few tricks.” Oliver said softly, that playful edge coming back.

“Yeah? Like what?” 

Oliver bit his lip, leaning forward so suddenly it made Connor gasp. But Oliver took his wrists, pulling them up to wrap around his shoulders and gripped Connor’s waist without warning and lifted him up like he weighed nothing. Connor emitted a squeak he was not proud of, making Oliver giggle, before settling him down on the edge of the countertop, their chests nearly touching and Connor’s legs now on either side of Oliver’s hips.

“Holy shit,” Connor grinned. His hands were still on Oliver’s shoulders, and Oliver still had a tight grip on his hips.

They stared at each other for a few intense seconds, Connor’s breathing slowing as his brain switched back on. He pulled Oliver in closer with his legs, arms stretching out to wrap around his neck as they slowly, so slowly Connor thought his heart was going to burst from his chest, met halfway for a kiss.

Connor couldn’t recall sharing a first kiss this soft, this careful. Oliver’s lips were so warm as they pressed feather light against Connor’s. They pulled apart after a few seconds to do it again, and again, coming back for chaste yet lingering kisses that slowly got faster, harder, before Oliver’s mouth left Connor’s, dotting kisses over his jaw and down his neck.

Connor sighed as he stretched his neck out, jaw unhinging as Oliver left a hot trail all the way to his collarbone. He bit back a whimper as he felt Oliver’s tongue against his skin, instead opting to cross his ankles around Oliver’s back and thread fingers into his hair, gripping as Oliver began to nip and suck back up Connor’s neck and behind his ear.

“Ollie…” Connor moaned, his head tilted nearly to one side, eyes closed and body shaking as he felt Oliver’s hot breath in his ear, goosebumps racing down his skin.

Connor cried out with a jolt as Oliver bit the flesh just behind his earlobe, licking it afterwards and driving Connor crazy. “Oliver, please…” Connor whined, pulling Oliver back by his hair, making a mental note how Oliver groaned pleasantly at the note of aggression.

Oliver’s glasses were fogged up. Connor laughed softly at that, bringing his hands back around to take them off, fold them gently, and set them on the space next to him.

They stared at each other again, studying one another. Connor had a fleeting thought how he could get used to this. The tension, the build up. He used to never like going slow, appreciating every moment, every stillness. But something about Oliver made him want to take his time, made him want to drag out this tenderness, enjoy the warm feeling emanating from the spot where Oliver’s fingers had snuck up his shirt and caressed his bare skin.

It was almost scary how much he enjoyed it… he swore after the first time… Connor would never let someone look him in the eyes with longing, devotion, pure attraction. But with Oliver he  _ liked  _ it. Oliver studied his wide, naked eyes with a hunger that was more than lust and it made Connor’s heart crash against his ribcage with loud uncertainty but also with old, suppressed feelings that threatened to bubble up.

Connor pulled Oliver forward with an open mouth kiss to tamper it down, sliding his tongue past Oliver’s, finally making the older man moan deliciously. This Connor could do, this Connor understood, passion, fervor, hunger. Pushing his feelings out the door, Connor commanded the kiss, fingertips pressing roughly into the back of Oliver’s neck and directing him exactly where he wanted Oliver to be. His crossed ankles around Oliver’s back gave a squeeze and Connor groaned appreciatively as Oliver pulled Connor flush against him, bringing attention to Connor’s arousal pressed against Oliver’s abs (which felt so firm under that thick sweater, Connor whimpered into Oliver’s mouth as he pushed up against it, getting a tease of friction).

Oliver’s hands wandered back, getting both around Connor’s ass while keeping up with the kiss, pressing and giving back everything Connor was giving him with surprising ferocity, groaning roughly as Connor’s teasing thrusts became more desperate and obvious.

They broke apart with wet gasps, Connor tilting his chin up and following Oliver’s lips, brushing against them, allowing the tingly feeling to linger. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet and so felt the small smile Oliver gave… Oliver smiled a lot. Connor didn’t hate it.

“Bedroom?” Oliver asked, like it was only a suggestion.

Connor’s eyes fluttered open, staring into Oliver’s dark eyes, kind as always, but this time with a determination, an intensity that made Connor’s skin prickle. Fuck, he wanted Oliver inside him.

“Only if you’re fucking me.” Connor spoke with a rasp. He wanted to feel Oliver over him. He wanted Oliver to manhandle him again, control him, pin him down, anything. And Connor knew he could do it. 

Oliver’s smile turned into a grin that was so naughty it made Connor’s hips twitch. That was new.

“I think I can manage that.”

Connor pulled himself up so their chests pressed together, brushing his lips over Oliver’s jaw. He didn’t want to ask… Connor squeezed his thighs again and grinned to himself as Oliver got the message and lifted Connor again, carrying him to the bedroom.

* * *

Connor opened his eyes and stared blearily at the room stretched out before him. The wardrobe against the wall wasn’t his, and he didn’t own a rug, or a potted plant the size of a fat businessman. 

Panic settled in. He’d spent the night at a guy’s house,  _ shit _ . Connor was so out of practice he’d allowed himself to sleep all night. Maybe he could still sneak out…

After a few more blinks, memories of last night slowly came back to Connor, easing his tense body and slowing his erratic breath. His eyes trailed down his body, covered halfway by a blanket… and a long, thick arm draped casually around his waist.

_ Oliver _ . He was at Oliver’s house. A lazy, satisfied smile stretched across his face. It had been a very, very long time since Connor had woken up with someone else, he wasn’t sure whether or not to bask in this comfortable, warm glow… or try to wiggle away and make coffee or something.

His options vanished as he felt Oliver stirring, stretching his legs out (which Connor found out were tangled with his,  _ god  _ how cheesy can you get?) and pressing his body closer against Connor’s back, the arm around his waist pulling him in like a snare.

Connor felt his body relax that much further, allowing himself to enjoy it, being Oliver’s personal teddy bear, while his mind swam. 

“You awake?” Oliver asked quietly, his voice rough and impossibly deep with sleep. Connor’s eyes closed, the question echoing around in his head, trying to settle down somewhere but refusing. Connor honestly didn’t think Oliver could get any more attractive, especially after what he did to him last night… but that voice, jesus christ.

“No,” Connor whispered, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m having a really good dream.”

He felt Oliver shift, his front sliding along Connor’s ass and dry lips dragging along Connor’s exposed shoulder. Connor inhaled the sigh that threatened to come out, sounding like a gasp instead. He opted to bite his lip as Oliver’s mouth moved to the back of his neck, peppering it with kisses.

“What are you dreaming about?”

_ Ugh  _ that voice. Connor felt his cock swelling, his skin prickling. He gently rocked his hips back, moaning softly in anticipation as Oliver’s arm left his side, only to slip under the covers and trail down Connor’s naked body.

“This hot teacher I’ve wanted to fuck for months…” Connor’s jaw dropped as Oliver’s hand wrapped around his member, at full mast now, teasingly stroking it up and down.

“Funny…” Oliver’s lips moved against Connor’s skin, nose nudging into his hair and making Connor shudder pleasantly. “I dreamt something very similar.”

Connor’s hands gripped the sheets as Oliver squeezed and picked up the pace, his eyes were still closed, drowning in the sensations around him: Oliver’s erection pressed against his ass, sliding up and down as Connor pushed back against it shamelessly, and his hand on Connor’s cock bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Oliver’s lips on his neck turned into little bites that sent electric bolts down Connor’s spine, making his toes curl.

“ _ Ollie… _ ” 

“Turn around,” Oliver commanded in Connor’s ear, low and husky. Connor obeyed immediately, only opening his eyes when Oliver took both of them in hand.

He choked on his gasp. Oliver’s face was so close, his eyes were dark, hair messy, and it was all on display in the morning sun shining through the window.

They stared at each other through it, Connor was so stunned he could only meet Oliver’s thrusts, hands trapped between their bodies. His flat palm against Oliver’s chest clawed around his ribs as he felt his release, gripping frantically as he came, jaw dropping and moaning deliriously, pressing himself impossibly closer to Oliver as he came too, knocking their foreheads together and breathing each other’s air.

Connor’s eyes fluttered shut again as he came down, staring at Oliver this way was almost too much. Letting himself be cuddled, flirting, lazy orgasms, imagining Oliver with a fucking sun halo around his head. Connor was going crazy.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Connor felt Oliver’s smile against his lips.

“At least it’s a good way to die, hm?” Oliver countered, nudging his nose against Connor’s.

A moment of silence passed between them. Connor waited until he got his breathing back under control to speak again, flinching at his own honesty but wanting to get it out.

“I’m not used to this…”

Connor’s eyes opened to find Oliver studying him curiously.

“What?”

Connor looked down at Oliver’s neck, then his fingers, tapping against Oliver’s skin.

“Waking up with someone.”

Oliver shuffled down so they were more eye level, encouraging Connor to meet his gaze again.

“No?”

“It’s something I tend to avoid.”

Oliver hummed, taking Connor’s tapping fingers and bringing them up to his lips, kissing them.

“Do you want to get up?”

Connor thought about it. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself this, allowed his heart to open up, let someone else touch it. It was almost happening too fast… how had a little crush, an attraction, grow into this? Connor didn’t know whether to scold his brain for slipping up, or just go with it as he had been. Oliver was different, he could feel it. Something about the way he looked at Connor, spoke to him, kissed him, made something old and almost foreign awaken in Connor. 

And it wasn’t like before… what he felt toward Oliver, and how Oliver reciprocated, was new and exciting. Connor felt foolish and nervous, and he liked it.

“Not yet.” Connor answered.


End file.
